


Electric Love

by OddyNoxious



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Caustic does his own make-up, Caustic has a little empathy. As a treat., Chemical Engineering, Complete, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Guest appearances by Mirage and Gibraltar, M/M, Subtitle: Luc's Bi Panic, so much fluff you might die of exposure, some violence in Chapter 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:33:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25828978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OddyNoxious/pseuds/OddyNoxious
Summary: The Engineer's lonely evening fixing a light leads to an encounter with a certain Trapper.(In which, they meet, Caustic attempts to navigate his emotions, and Luc finds beauty in passion.)
Relationships: Caustic | Alexander Nox/Luc Paquette
Comments: 5
Kudos: 23





	1. Pinned Butterfly

During the Apex Games' downtime, Luc and his team of electricians and engineers repaired anything damaged during combat. The Legends were resourceful as always, willing to use anything to achieve victory, including their surroundings. Today, a report came in that 'Octane' broke light 32B inside of Hydro Dam. It was a fantastic money shot. Octane punched the light through, grabbed shards of glass with his bare hands, and stabbed his opponent's neck. Blood splattered all over Octane, who pulled out his phone to take a selfie. Octane was always boastful about his victories, winking into the camera as he mocked his victim. 

The cleaning crew scrubbed it all away. Luc tried not to think of the corpse that had been there hours before as he walked down the hallway. He decided to repair this light himself, allowing the other electrician to go home early. 

Hydro Dam is a looming building in the low light, turned orange by the evening rays. Luc keeps the flyers outside in his mind when he enters, heading to the breaker box and flipping one of the switches. Sunset peeks through the open doors as the lone engineer sets down his toolbox and turns on his headlamp. Luc stands on his step stool, screws in his teeth, cursing in French, attempting to pull the light fixture. Octane banged it up pretty bad. He would have to replace the entire housing-

Luc jumps at a thud, attentive to the quiet plops in the night. Footsteps? No, it couldn't be. He spits the screws into his hand, placing them in a magnetic bowl on his stool with a _tik-tack_. "Hello?" he cautiously called into the void, looking down the hallway. Distant smells of coffee waft into his nose. An occasional cough reaches his ears. He furrows his eyebrows, trying to devise a source. No one was _supposed_ to be here. 

Maybe he should hurry. Why would someone be down here? _Who_ would come down here? Luc pulls the fixture out, beginning to cut wires from the plastic casing and-

"Mr. Paquette."

Luc nearly jumps out of his skin, kicking back and stumbling from his stool. He falls rear-first onto the tile below. Luc grimaces in pain. His eyes tilt upward, to the towering figure looming at the end of the hallway. He hitches a breath. His hands find the ladder, giving him support as the other takes gradual steps towards him. The figure holds out a hand, as if to offer help, but hesitates when the engineer sits up. He's fine, on his ass and cornered by this _l' homme_ , but fine. With a skyward point of his head, his light peels away the darkness to reveal the Legend. 

Oh, he knows precisely who this is. "Doctor-" the predator clears his throat, and Luc's mouth snaps shut. Caustic coughs, looks down at him, and snorts. Goosebumps rise on Luc's skin.

Luc knows the agonizing wake of slaughter Caustic is capable of. Caution is critical- his fellow scientist would kill him without a hint of shame. Luc tries to reassure himself, that, _No, I'm too vital to the Games. If Caustic kills me, Caustic disappears._ The Legend's method of murder is one of meticulous passion. Is this what it feels like to be a future victim of Caustic's? How Caustic's gaze pins him in place like a butterfly to a board, mulling over the most effective way to watch him die. Luc takes this moment to note how Caustic's eyes glow in the darkness. 

He fears to speak. Caustic continues to stare. Perhaps he's just another lab rat to the scientist, one member of a faceless mass to be experimented upon. Lab rats are caged and disposable, with no meaning to their life except for their value to science. Luc hopes he is the butterfly. Insects such as them are unique and colorful, beloved, and sought after. They hold value in both life and death for art and science alike. 

At least, butterflies are held delicately after their death. 

Which is he to Caustic?

The other tilts his head at him. Luc thinks he's raising an eyebrow but is obscured by the mask. "You are him, correct? I must say, marvelous work with the forcefield. It's a technical masterpiece."

"Him is me. Er, wait- I- yes, I'm Luc. You're very... uh, big- I mean- you're- Thank you, is what I mean to say," Luc pulls himself up to stand, becoming acutely aware of his own size. A sense of dread washes over as he recognizes his weakness, using the step ladder as a crutch. He watches the Legend carefully. They are a deer and a wolf in the brief pause before the chase. The question is still there- _why_ is Caustic here? Didn't he go home at the end of the day like everyone else? 

Green eyes narrow at him. Caustic has mentally evaluated him and has yet to deem if the engineer should live or die. People Caustic deemed as rats fell victim to his slaughter: no pity, no remorse, and no hesitations. Caustic would pin a poor, unsuspecting fool with his boot to their neck. He would pose for the camera, give one of his many declarations of victory, _"You and I are not equals. Remember this."_

How much is for the cameras, and how much was true? 

Caustic's still in costume, too. Blackheart is one of the audience's favorites. It was from one of the Legend's copycat criminals - some poor sap who thought he could break a colleague out of prison and pin it on Caustic. Luc cannot deny the presence the get-up has. 

Luc continues to shake, heart accelerating as Caustic picks him apart. He meets the scientist's gaze for a moment but quickly looks away as Blackheart continues to mentally unravel him, layer by layer. What does the Legend see? Butterfly or Lab Rat? His gaze travels to the spiked boots as Caustic's brain is, undoubtedly, mentally reconstructing his organs and detaching his spine.

He tries to comfort his thoughts. He must calm his nerves. What was good about Caustic? Why is Caustic here? Eyes travel to the Nox grenade on his chest. Nox gas ate through flesh and metal alike, and as long as it continued to do so, Luc had a job. He thinks of Natalie.

He must survive this encounter. He couldn't abandon his daughter. 

Luc is brought back to reality when the Legend clears his throat. Caustic squats, picking up the plastic housing and holding it out to him. "Oh, uh- thank you," he stammers, planting a foot back onto the step ladder. Maybe if he finishes this, he can get out of here faster. Get out of this hallway and release the breath he's holding in. Luc picks up his wire cutters, beginning to strip the old wires. He just needs to focus on this... ignore the hulking figure mere feet away. "Well, Doctor, how does an Apex Legend find himself in the arena in the off-hours?"

Caustic takes another step closer. Iron and copper and _coffee_ waft in his nose. He glances down- some fool's blood is still on Caustic's gloves. He notices the imperfect nature of Caustic's collar and pants. It's from people pulling on his clothes and groveling at his feet in the moments before their demise. It's… classic. Caustic prefers the slow death. Luc tried to not think about it too much. He played an equally significant role in the Outland's legalized bloodbath. Luc does not deserve to judge. Every death in the arena is his fault, by extension. He tries to comfort the thought with the idea of Natalie's happiness again, of her future. She is worth it.

He's taken two steps up the ladder. Even at this height, Caustic is eye level to Luc's chest. That fact alone makes him aware of his size.

"I left some of my notes here and came back to get them," Caustic pats a pocket on his chest. That… sounds about right. Caustic was always tedious about his notes, wasn't he? Luc shifts uncomfortably as the golden mask bares into his back. The engineer begins to loop the copper wire around the housing's screws to make connections. His hands are shaking. The hair on his neck stands. 

There's a pregnant, awkward pause before Caustic coughs roughly behind him, "How does one come into this line of work?"

Luc tries to laugh, calm his nerves, "maybe I should ask you the same, Doctor." Maybe Caustic isn't so bad? He seemed kind enough to converse with. 

"I think that's _my_ business, Mr. Paquette," Caustic leers- Luc can't see it, but he knows the scientist's face has twisted into a frown. Luc feels his skin crawl at the reaction. If he angered Caustic, would the Legend attack him? Choke him out and leave him to be found the next morning?

Maybe he's asked the wrong question. Caustic's gaze is dissecting his skin, it presses a scalpel to his spine and drags down. "Well," Luc coughs, "I graduated from a university off-world, and moved here with my daughter when I was hired by the Syndicate. They had me design the forcefield, you know how it goes." Why is this happening? Why does Caustic bother to converse with him? 

Caustic leans against the wall behind him, humming, "Your daughter?" 

"Oui," Luc smiles a little, thinking of Natalie's face. "She's brilliant, the light of my life." 

"Must be nice," Caustic's tone is cold and curt, and he's not sure what to interpret from that. Was it supposed to be… acknowledgment? What? "Do you raise her by yourself, or?" Caustic asks.

He pauses at the question, "Yes… I'm a widower." Luc takes in a breath, thinking of his long-dead partner. His wife was a sweetheart to the end, and he couldn't bring himself to get with another after her passing. 

Caustic is silent for a moment, then utters a small, "My apologies. I shouldn't have asked."

"Oh, _Non_ , do not fret," he tries to smile, then returns to the light. They converse for a little while longer, about Natalie, and about Octane breaking the light. Luc finally finishes, pushing the bulb into place. He steps down the ladder, returning to the box. Luc reaches for the breaker, flipping it across, then turning the switch for the light. 

"She has no mother or secondary father?" Caustic asks as the light flickers to life. His arms are crossed, head tilted at Luc, studying him like an elegant bird.

The question doesn't process in his head. He's too focused on getting out of here, stepping from the stool and standing- _oh_. Caustic is standing over him, and Luc suddenly finds himself eye level with the chemist's chest. One of his arms raises to touch the opposite wall.

Okay. He's fine. Caustic won't kill him. 

"Oh-" Caustic is asking about his relationships. _Why?_ "Well," He looks off to the side, averting his gaze from the other. "I don't really… _Non_ ," His mind wanders, thinking back to his last few bates. "I tried dating for a while. Nothing stuck. I'm too busy, anyways." Luc waves a hand dismissively as he speaks.

The engineer bends over, picking up his toolbox. "Oh, Doctor, if uhm, you don't mind," he stares up at Caustic. The Legend stares daggers into him. Luc is stupid. He fell for it, he got too _comfortable_. He's still cornered. The wolf is waiting to give chase, and Luc doesn't have a _chance_. Caustic's frame nearly fills the entire hallway. He's _huge_. Caustic could crush him right now in all that heavy gear and wouldn't even break a sweat. 

He takes in a breath. Luc is reminded of his racing heart. He clears his throat, "If you don't mind, Doctor, I would like to keep working. Ha- so many lights to fix, so little time."

Caustic stares at him, then side steps, puts his back to the wall and allows him to pass. He holds his toolbox to his chest, green eyes following him the whole way, peeling away his skin until he turns the corner to scurry away to another section of Hydro Dam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like this, come check out my Chemical Engineering Playlist! 
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4CbWqtZtYzq0QDVgy6zYtX?si=k9f7DWtjSt2Dgu71vbKKvQ


	2. The Scientific Method

What an interesting little man. 

It's an experiment in his head. He perturbed Caustic's thoughts- he looked… oh, he was something. Watching Luc squirm under his gaze made his stomach twist in an unfamiliar knot. He intended to repeat the process. The engineer's control of machines enthralled him- Luc held the screws between his teeth and wired connections with a familiar mastery of his craft. He knows the feeling; the engineer was in his element. Holding out the housing for Luc to take was a vital step in the process. It allowed Caustic to get a look at his small hands, note the lack of a ring. 

Caustic has repeatedly weighed out the process in his head to reach the desired result. This is an experiment now. He doesn't know how else to approach it. Luc is a captivating specimen- a fascinating _human._

Step one, ask a question. Was Luc Paquette single, and was he interested in men? 

Do background research. Luc Paquette was the lead electrical engineer of the Apex Games, who constructed The Forcefield used by the Syndicate. He was somewhere in his mid-50s and had a daughter in college. From his understanding, Natalie Paquette was on the robotics team and would join her father in the Apex Games as soon as she graduated. Luc's wife died several years ago, and judging by his devotion, he was still alone.

Step two, construct a hypothesis. If he were to get alone with Luc, get to know him a little more, he could ask him on a date with a (likely) successful outcome. 

Alexander doesn't know what to do with the feelings in his chest. The way his heart flutters and head spins when he watches the engineer work confuses him. He's well accustomed to hookups- it's the only type of relationship he has time for. He's fantasized about a partner, a domestic life, time and time again. Casual contacts were easy- they scheduled encounters he could rely on. He frequented Solace Dating more than once. Caustic weighs over _why_ he's avoided a partner for so long. He's too cold for most, and too emotionally distant. He doesn't care about or _for_ people, only for his research and its results. 

And yet, Luc Paquette invades his thoughts like a siren calling him to drown. He's beautiful, but Alexander is in awe of his intelligence. Luc is a refined, experienced engineer with his own scientific decorations and honors. When searching his name, he found the engineer's research paper on _Identification and Location of Fault on a Transmission Line Using Wavelet-Based on Clarke's Transformation._ It stole his rarely distracted, undivided attention for the entirety of his readthrough. Admittedly, it made Caustic feel ignorant. It was filled with terminology and talk of electricity he could not begin to understand, but the formatting was meticulously perfect, and the content captivated him at every word. Luc is a genius in his field, in the same way Alexander starred in his own.

Step three, test with an experiment. This was conducted in part last night when he met Luc in the hallway. Perhaps it was a silly coincidence, but it worked in his favor, allowing him to collect more information. It also let him see Luc closer, and _in person_. It called for a repeat, however.

He needed to see Luc again. 

Caustic sits at his vanity desk in his quarters, examining himself. It was all a distraction from the true prize, but they were all part of the show. This morning's email commanded him to wear Blackheart again. It was annoying to make a fool of himself for the audience. Caustic _loathed_ his celebrity status, how his image was used for profit, and his role brought entertainment to the Outlands. His fans are often mistaken- Caustic's participation in the bloodsport is never for them. It's for himself and the lifestyle he married, furthering his scientific horizons and continuing his research. 

It's a good life, minus the costumes. 

He pulls at his face, staring in the mirror. He ponders if Luc would even find him attractive. Fear was an easy reaction to produce and extract; it's second nature to him. Flirting, however? He's out of his element, and he feels like a naive, giggling teenager. 

Ugh. He's stupid. There's no reason for him to be nervous. 

The games would begin again in a few hours, giving the legend time to prep himself. Caustic pulls open a drawer for his medication, taking several pill bottles in one hand and placing them on the vanity desk. Caustic unbottles each one, taking his pills with water then returning to the mirror. 

He's old. Age and disease have racked his body in more ways than one. Caustic retakes his oxygen mask, placing it over his mouth and nose as he starts his make-up. Primer, foundation, concealers- all things he didn't think he would have to learn as a Legend. Caustic takes his hair, tying it up, pinning it down, and then pulls over the wig cap. He plucks Blackheart's wig from its stand, fitting it on and adjusting it. He leans in, coloring in his eyebrows to match the wig. 

Wearing make-up under Blackheart's mask shouldn't be a requirement, but it's "in case his mask breaks and the cameras were rolling." 

Today, he would repeat the experiment. Caustic needs to pull the engineer's attention, get him alone, and ask him more questions. Dully, he is aware of the creepiness of it- and he questions how else to approach it. Maybe he'll give Luc his number this time? 

Caustic sprays set on his face as he finishes, opening the map of King's Canyon to select the site for his experiment. 

* * *

He settled on Hydro Dam again. His teammates questioned his intentions repeatedly, but Caustic insisted that it would generate the best results. 

It's a bloodbath inside of Hydro Dam. Gibraltar had acquired a Peacekeeper and put both his teammates in four easy shots. 

It didn't matter. This match was insignificant in the grand scheme of Alexander's plans. He has Mirage cornered in the same hallway he encountered Luc in, trophy askew to the side as gas eats away the tricker's skin. 

It's beautiful, how it invades his lungs and destroys him inside out. Mirage cries, his coughs growing hoarse and wet, then spits blood into the chemist's face. He lifts Mirage by the vest, slamming his back into the breaker box. One, two, three times until he hears a sick _crack_ and Mirage falls limp. It dents on the first hit, allowing gas to seep into the compartment. It's not enough damage. He needs it to be fixable by Luc and Luc alone.

"Hm, it seems I have broken your spine," he muses, grinning beneath the mask and taking the trickster's face in one hand, connecting it with the box again—the Legend's skull fractures from the trauma. "The way bones break… beautiful, is it not?" Alexander coos. The lights began to flicker as his compound chewed away at the inside.

Good. Luc would have to fix that. Alexander smashes Mirage's head into the box one last time for good measure, then drops him like a discarded doll. He presses his boot down on the trickster's chest, watching life leave him with each passing moment. Caustic _lives_ for that look- it gets his cold heart racing; it makes him feel _alive_. It is a mark of his success, of his power, of his mastery as a legend. Mirage tries to call for help, but it comes out as choked sobs. As always, something for the camera, "The rabbit's cries bring the wolves," he can feel a fan losing their mind somewhere already. 

It's enough of a distraction for Gibraltar to release a fully charged Peacekeeper shot into the back of his skull.

* * *

One trip in the respawn chamber later, and Caustic is marching into Hydro Dam that night. He's in more casual wear this time, his sweater and slacks. King's Canyon had a nasty habit of being chilly at night.

Same hallway. Same time. There he is. It's the second test. 

Caustic watches from the corner for a moment, focused on Luc's finesse. How he diligently handles his tools and effortlessly flows as he makes repairs. It leaves Caustic in awe of such refined intellect. He's a genius. Caustic toys with an idea- if Luc was smarter than him- but quickly dismisses it. 

Luc was foolish enough to have a child. 

He trods down the hall. He watches the engineer snap upward like a deer in the headlights, and Caustic tries to find the internal balance between eliciting fear and desire. Fear was fun, but the last thing he wanted to do was scare Luc away. 

"Doctor," the engineer tries to smile, "We have to stop meeting like this." 

"Of course," Alexander agrees, stepping close enough to observe Luc's work on the box, the pair illuminated by his LED lantern. "There are indeed other ways for us to meet... but it seems we have failed to exchange information," easy does it.

The engineer's head tilts, and he chuckles, "You know, if I were a simpler man, I would assume you were asking for me number." 

"Perhaps I am," Caustic leans against the wall to appear less threatening. He tries to find the words, "Your work is remarkable. Delicate and clean, with little to no thanks or recognition." He shrugs, "you deserve to be treated." He glanced downward, studying for the other's reaction. 

Luc _pfffts,_ and it turns into a giggle as he wipes his hands clean and stands. The iron scent, the sign of _work,_ it's intoxicating. Luc smelled of metal dust and grease - he wonders how hard it was to get out.

"What's so funny?" he spits, sitting up and puffing out his chest. 

"Nothing! I'm just surprised. You have a bizarre way of flirting," Luc smiles at him, "And here I thought you were going to turn me into one of your Test Subjects."

Alexander thinks of this experiment, then clears his throat, "...No... You seem to be highly intelligent. I prefer the company of fellow academics." There's an awkward, pregnant pause, "Your paper- _Identification and Location of Fault on a Transmission Line Using Wavelet-Based on Clarke's Transformation._ It was remarkable." 

"Oh, you read that old thing? Not my best work, but thank you. Perhaps you should share one of yours with me?" Luc seems to be relaxing. That's good. 

"I would love to share them with you," Caustic says. 

"Alright," the engineer pulls out his holopad, pressing a few buttons and putting it away. Alexander's phone vibrates in his pocket, retrieving the device reveals Luc's contact information. 

"Message me sometime."

Results align with the hypotheses. He's scored.


	3. Dieffenbachia Seguine

They were texting like teenagers. Luc is funny. Luc sent him memes about chemistry and talked to him about Natalie. As promised, Caustic shared his paper on  _ Synthesis, crystal structure and antimicrobial studies of chlorido(dimethylsulfoxide-κS)(pyrrolidinedithiocarbamato-κ2S,S/)platinum(II)  _ and Luc  _ loved  _ it. 

Infatuation is a strange feeling in his chest, how his heart flutters when Luc's text tone goes off and distracts him from his work. He's almost ashamed of himself. His cold, calculating focus is rarely distracted from chemistry, but the ding and the vibration had him handling delicate vials between his fingers to pluck his phone from his pocket. 

Asking the man to dinner was a careful step- Caustic rewrote the message at least four times. 

He couldn't  _ believe  _ Luc said yes. 

They met at a small local cafe. Caustic wore casual attire- beige pants, a grey shirt, and a jean jacket to help hide from paparazzi. He fitted a cloth mask over his real one, tied his hair in a bun, and hid it under a hat. He pulls at his cheeks in the window of the next shop, inspecting himself. Luc was already inside. 

Alexander walks through the door, ringing the bell on the way in and sitting across from Luc. 

"You look very nice, Doctor." 

Caustic pulls his hat down out of instinct, trying to conceal his face. "Thank you," he puffs out his chest, then returns, "Your attire is also exquisite, Mr. Paquette." He allows his eyes to linger upon Luc's figure. 

Luc is in a white, blue paisley-patterned collared shirt and slacks, hair and beard brushed clean. He notices Luc's shirt is slightly wrinkled, nails picked clean, and the pale line on his left ring finger where an oath of devotion once was. It's odd, he's used to Luc's scent of iron, fingers dirtied by dust, and the apparent grease in his hair.

Caustic scratches his nose as an excuse to pull on his mask and  _ inhale. _ Lavender assaults his senses. Did he  _ just _ shower? He fits the mask back into place. Luc clears his throat, reminding Caustic of the fellow before him.

Caustic meets his gaze- Luc must have noticed he was staring at his hands. The waiter approaches now, greeting them and handing over a menu for each. He starts glancing over the menu, brows furrowing at some of the items. He keeps glancing between Luc and the menu, "Did you… have an easy time getting here?"

Luc, who has leaned over and rested his chin on his fist, perks up at the question. "Oh," he waves a hand. "Natalie stayed up late, then they tried to call me in to replace a resistor," He sits up, "and I explained, 'I have plans,' so I told them no." 

Caustic huffs, "So you picked me over working on electronics? I'm honored." He catches the flush on Luc's cheek and smiles underneath his mask. He  _ knows _ what he's doing. Luc is easy to make squirm like so many others. Applying pressure in just the right spots always brought joy to his cold heart. 

It's cute.  _ Luc  _ is cute. 

Luc chuckles lightly, "I guess I did." He shrugs, "And what about you, Doctor? Did you have a good morning?" 

Caustic clicks his tongue, thinking it over, "I suppose it was alright. I got here on time, after all." He waves a hand, picking up his menu to glance over it. "I've never been here before, though," some of the items are too grandiose for Caustic's taste. He was rather bland when it came to food. Fine dining held little interest to him. It was a distraction and a waste of time from his research. "I tend to eat rather simply."

"Well, that's boring," Luc chided, flipping the menu over. "Is that your… rhythm? Kill some folks in a match, eat something tasteless, work in your lab, repeat?" The Frenchman stares at him, one eyebrow raised. 

"No," It's a lie. Maybe Luc won't think less of him.

"And what did you eat for dinner last night?" Luc raises an eyebrow. 

"...Mac and Cheese with tuna mixed in." 

Luc bursts into laughter, wiping tears from his eyes and looking at Caustic. "I should invite you over for dinner sometime, then." 

Caustic pipes up, "Is that a promise?" 

"Perhaps," Luc teases with that goofy smile of his. 

It's enough to break the ice. They discuss eachother's life (mostly Luc's). Caustic adores listening to him talk about engineering, how his eyes glittered when he thinks about the equations needed to power the ring. He doesn't want to talk about his own life- anything Caustic was before the games was unnecessary information. 

"I'm not satisfied with the forcefield, and I think that it could be improved." 

Caustic takes a sip of coffee, raising a brow, "How so?" 

"Well, it's not efficient, so it's expensive to run, and while it  _ works _ ," Luc waves his hands, "It could be better." He sighs, "trust me, I'm trying, but the formulas are…" 

Caustic sits up. He can see the frustration in the other's face: Luc's furrowed brows and frown. It almost makes him feel pity. He understands how his fellow intellect feels. Upon the conversation turning to himself, he speaks of his research with analytical precision, discussing how delicate the formulas were. He observes Luc's face throughout, watching for horror or other reactions. He doesn't  _ want _ Luc to be afraid of him.

Luc orders an Eggplant Panini, and it appears edible, at least. It's a far cry from what Caustic would order. Luc explains the item to him- grilled eggplant, provolone cheese, basil pesto, (what even  _ is _ pesto?) stone ground mustard, and garlic mayo grilled on focaccia bread. He stares at it with a slight cringe. 

For himself, Caustic orders a Greek Chicken Wrap and coffee- it sounded safe enough. The conversation continues, Luc talks about Natalie at some length, her brilliancy, and her college work. They finish eating, and Caustic can't help the feeling in his chest as he stares at Luc. He props his chin on his fist, listening all the while. 

When Luc asks him about botany, he does his best not to explode. Caustic talks about it for what could have been hours. He drones on and on (in the most analytical fashion he can muster) about how plants are classified, which plants were his favorite, then which ones he owned. Luc smiles throughout, and Caustic can't help but feel embarrassed. The same feeling is there- how he's happy to see Luc, how he's comfortable with the other and loves to talk to him. Caustic doesn't know what to do with this vulnerability. 

Eventually, Luc checks his phone, neatly places his utensils and cup on his plate. "I've had a lovely time, Doctor," Luc puts his device away. "I need to head home, though. Text me later?" He asks with a raised brow and a grin. 

Caustic stares at him for a moment, processing his expression. Is he supposed to take that as flirting? Is it supposed to be coy? After too long of a pause, he answers, "Sure." 

Luc gives a smile and a wave goodbye, and Caustic watches him leave with a wistful stare. When the door closes behind the engineer, reality floods back to Caustic; he is in an environment outside his element- he is a wolf in a friendly cafe. His expression hardens to a frown, adjusts his hat down, and lumbers out.  
  


* * *

  
Caustic enters his home via the thumbprint on the door, listening to it close behind him with a mechanic  _ whirr _ . He removes his jacket, laying it over a kitchen chair and slumping onto his couch. Caustic taps his thumbs together and gazes up at his ceiling, allowing his brain to mull the date over. Was it a date at all? Did Luc like him? He didn't seem to be afraid of him, so that's a start. Luc was handsome. He was funny, kind, and Caustic has to ponder. 

Luc is unraveling Caustic at the core, and he makes a mental note to keep his charade in check. He's detached - he does not desire for the comfort of another's embrace, had no desire for a real relationship, but with Luc? 

Caustic did not think he was capable of falling in love. 

He's uncertain of this emotional vulnerability, how he can socialize and talk to Luc as an equal. The mere notion of  _ relaxing  _ in the presence of another is alien to him. Caustic has always guarded himself behind mental and emotional walls. Growing  _ close  _ to another is an opportunity to attack him. What if Luc found himself in the crossfire of Caustic's crimes? What then? Could Caustic stand to build those barriers again? 

That's a fallacy. His barriers are still intact. Luc could not break his facade, and never would. Caustic is a known recluse- incredibly private, and even more prideful. Luc, in all his mastery, is not strong enough to tamper with his walls. 

That's fine, then. Alexander would let himself have this relationship- it could not wound him. He glances at his plants, noticing the droopy leaves. He should water them soon. He gazes back to the ceiling and allows Luc's face to permeate his mind's eye again. The smile, the beard, his lithe form, and his acceptance of Caustic. A smile phases his face once more. 

Standing, Alexander moves to his _Dieffenbachia seguine,_ a dumbcane, carefully touching the leaves to inspect its well-being. It's strong, but closer examination revealed cracks in its health. The Dumbcane is one of his favorite plants, and one of his oldest. It has a home right next to his couch. He's cared for it for years and carefully removed its imperfections with delicate force. He reaches for the watering can, tipping into the soil. Caustic watches the earth moisten with the engineer on his brain. 

Humans are measured by their usefulness to science. He rarely found value in the average man beyond what they could do as a test subject.

Luc isn't useful to Caustic- not in that way. He tries to resolve it in his brain, fingers gracing over a dead leaf. He pulls on a nearby glove, grabs a pair of scissors, and snips it off. Poisonous sap leaks out of the stem. Dumbcanes are average house plants- unassuming without attractive coloration- but the toxin inside always fascinated him. He inspects another stem, a spot where he tied a weak leaf years ago to save it. 

He can't find a reason for Luc to be useful, except for the sheer enjoyment of his company.  _ That  _ in itself is strange. Casual acquaintances are below him- they are a distraction. 

Luc gives him a mixture of emotions that he doesn't know how to grapple with. Using the same meticulous prowess as before, the engineer peels away at his layers with surgical precision. Amazing, how one man could unravel him like twine. Is this Luc's use? To deconstruct his persona?

Caustic freezes, still touching his plant. That's a dangerous hypothesis- to propose Luc was capable of such an act. Yet, he sees how brilliant Luc is, sees how he glows and smiles. When he imagines the engineer's hand around his own, and can't help but to grin. 

He huffs, throwing the dead leaf in the garbage and slumping on his couch. Caustic grabs his phone, looking at Luc's face, and sighs again. Perhaps, that is the result of his experiment. It's a treacherous conclusion- Alexander has found someone he loves. An intellectual equal, no less.

He returns to the home screen, hovers over the icon for Solace Dating, and deletes the app. 


	4. Data Collection

Luc Paquette did not think he would fall in love again. 

The loss of his wife so many years ago hit him like a locomotive. Grief stuck to his insides like tar and clouded his brain with unforgiving fog, and it hurt more than he ever could have imagined.

He held onto baby Natalie in his lap while he sobbed throughout the funeral. She did not cry so much- she was too young to understand death or its gravity. Luc was alone many nights; his hand laid flat on the bed's empty side as he thought of her. The possessions left behind always hurt the most: her clothing, her smell, her pillow.  _ That  _ was the worst. Part of a sudden death was all the projects they left behind- her half-used shampoo, her leftovers. A few days after she died, a new dress she ordered arrived in the mail and Luc bursted into tears.

It was agonizing to tell Natalie and not break down himself. It was her death's finality, and Luc could not ignore it as he did with so many others. When he tried to explain it to her, he sat her down gently, held her hand, and told her  _ maman  _ was gone. Luc felt empty, like a piece of him had been hollowed out and abandoned. 

Luc cried for days afterward and privately in his office. He remembers holding baby Natalie, trying to smile  _ for her. _ Taking care of her was an insurmountable task, as he learned Natalie would need special attention, and raised her alone.

Most of his wife's possessions were placed into storage or donated. Their rings were tucked away in a nightstand. He could not bear to look at them. His wife's passing was the first of hundreds of deaths he would have to learn to swallow down and ignore.

Of course, Luc tried to get out after the pain raging in his heart simmered to a smolder. None of it helped. He tried both men and women, attempted something casual, even just to make new friends (which is  _ not _ an easy task in your thirties), and no one stuck. He'd take the occasional drink on a Friday night with co-workers, but otherwise? No one. 

He felt so alone for someone so full of life. 

Initially, he thought giving Caustic his number would end poorly. What can he say, though? There's more to the Legend then he thought there would be. 

He doesn't know what conclusions to come to about him- Caustic is  _ dangerous, _ but he speaks so fondly of plants. Caustic isn't comfortable with his real name, forcing Luc to refer to him as "Doctor." Calling him Caustic in casual conversation was weird, and often elected for the title. Caustic called him "Mr. Paquette" in return. He doesn't know what to think of that, either. The titles are cute, but it prevents them from being open. (Admittedly, when Caustic says his name in that deep baritone of his, it gets Luc's heart fluttering.)

Does Caustic not realize his entire identity was a few clicks away for Luc? 

There were some advantages to working for the Syndicate. Information was one of them. Before them, he worked on designing medical equipment for Silva Pharamacuetical's Outlands branch. His paper,  _ Revitalizing Titan Force Fields for Post-War Use,  _ got him noticed by the Games. He wished he never wrote it. He wouldn't be here now.

Luc couldn't turn them down. They offered him too much. He didn't  _ know  _ what he was getting into when they hired him. They initially brought him into work on old, broken Titan tech. He doesn't regret that part- Luc held the brain of a Legion titan in his hands. That was a thrill in itself. He never had the opportunity to turn one on, but he wished he did. It must have had so many secrets to tell. 

Next, he was tasked to design Gibraltar's Dome Shield. Once they were satisfied with it, they had him take on a new project: the arena-sized force field for their Games. 

It made him sick to work on, but they paid him handsomely and threatened to ruin his career. His hands were tied. 

Luc got access to look up Caustic's legend profile. Alexander Maxwell Nox was an  _ excellent  _ name. The death report wasn't hard to find either, once Luc slipped the right employee a few credits. 

Luc is in his home office. The files are open on one monitor, and the Game's Livestream is playing on the other. He shouldn't be prying. He knows it's wrong, but Caustic is also  _ wrong.  _ He's easy to talk to, handsome, passionate, but Luc can't help trying to reason it all in his brain. He rubs his beard. Caustic is one of the most cold-blooded killers in the ring, one of the few Legends who smile in the act. 

Caustic has no regrets when he kills. He can see it in every match. Luc's eyes flash to the Game's feed, where Caustic is beating another contender to death. No mercy, no shame, just precision. 

It scares the shit out of him, how Caustic's personality could flip like that. One moment he's calculating the most effective way to slaughter for his research; the next, he's sending Luc a meme about chemical reactions.

He sits back in his chair, watching Caustic blow gas into Bloodhound's face, and win the match. The camera stays on the Trapper for several moments, allowing Luc to note the blood splattered all over his apron.  He swallows as the camera pans to the victory screen and shows the victor's stats. Caustic had twelve kills. 

It's a battle of morals. When Caustic isn't mid-murder, he's talking about plants or chemistry, or his noisy neighbors at his house and the new bedsheets he bought. And that?  _ That  _ is what Luc has fallen for. When they converse, Luc can see him relax. Caustic will start talking and reveal hints of the person underneath the persona, and it's  _ beautiful. _ He can see Alexander poke his head out behind the walls, ask Luc for help, and take it down brick by brick.  It's incredible to talk to another person who's passionate about their work. Caustic is a genius. Luc wonders what the chemist thought of him academically, sure, but neither could ever do what the other does. They are dominators in their respective fields, despite Nox's tarnished reputation.  Luc lets himself fantasize- Caustic scaring the shit out of him in the hallway had played in his head on repeat. It plays in different versions. There's a few where Caustic ripped away Blackheart's mask and kissed him right there. Or one where he's backed into the wall, and Caustic's hands intertwine in his hair. 

It forces him to ponder. Why is Caustic fond of him? How has Luc attracted the attention of the most ruthless of Legends? Why would Caustic corner him just to compliment him? 

Luc stares up at the ceiling, kicking his feet on his desk as he thinks it over. He thinks of the forcefield- of his role in games. Luc is an accessory to the murders in the arena. He feels responsible,  _ guilty, _ even. Those twelve kills were Luc's, too. He glances at the photo of Natalie on his desk and sighs.

Perhaps, he deserves a little happiness too. 

Luc picks up his phone and opens the messages app, staring at the selfie Caustic had sent him this morning. He's halfway in make-up, one eyebrow colored purple. There's plenty of details- five pill bottles set aside on the desk, Philosopher's Stone hung up on a hook in the background. Luc's eyes focus on the small, attempted smile behind his mask. 

Luc heaves another sigh, browsing through Caustic's photos, between his files, press release photos, and selfies. He lets himself fantasize more, how Caustic could hold him and envelope him in his warm embrace. Luc sees both sides- how Caustic can be delicate and ruthless at the same time. He loves the passion underneath and the sincere calmness he has. 

Is this just the way things are? Are they both murderers? He  _ knows  _ Caustic doesn't regret his crimes, but Luc feels guilt for each one. He tries to ignore it, let it dull year after year, let them fade into numbers. 

They scream in his nightmares. Scream as the forcefield brings them to their knees, scream when they try to inch to safety, and die to it. It's a mass of elongated faces that cry for him to  _ turn it off,  _ but he  _ can't _ .

Maybe Alexander is just a distraction. 

Maybe that's the best for him.

He texts Caustic.


	5. Metamorphosis

He wakes up to a text from Luc.

_ Meet me in the hallway tonight?  _

_ ;P  _

_ The  _ hallway-  _ their _ corridor-  _ their  _ space. When Alexander enters Hydro Dam, Luc greets him with a smile. His heart melts. Luc is smart enough to know his footsteps by now.

"Mr. Paquette, what's the occasion?" He trods down the hallway to him.

"Can't I invite you down here without an explanation?" Luc says, taking Caustic's hand.

Caustic's hitched breath is muffled by his mask, staring down at Luc. He takes a moment, trying to process  _ this. _ Is this what they are? Does this mean anything? What is  _ this _ ?

"No, not really," he responds, carefully taking Luc's other hand. He moves with the engineer, trying to comply with Luc's motions. They sway back and forth. Luc is his entire world. It's stupid,  _ silly  _ even, how Luc is all he desires when they are together.

Alexander knows it's a distraction from his research, but he allows himself to have this. Maybe it's just another line in the complex web of lies that surrounds Caustic. Perhaps that is all they ever should be. 

Luc takes a step closer to him. Alexander can feel his old heart racing as the engineer's head graces his chest. 

Spiny hands reach for his face, and Alexander recoils at first. He looks down, seeing the worried frown and forces himself to relax. He leans into's Luc's touch, letting his fingers grace over his mask.

It's another aspect of his facade. Does he dare let Luc deconstruct this layer of himself? Does he dare to let Luc too close? 

Caustic is poison to his core, to every aspect of himself he dares to parade. Why would Luc so willing thrust himself into Alexander's iron sights? Especially after their first encounter? How could Luc, someone with so much empathy for those around him, love someone like the Doctor? 

He thinks of the sap- does Luc dare to cut off his dead leaves? Unprotected?

Luckily for him, Caustic is immune to his own toxin. 

Caustic reaches up, pulling the mask down his neck. Fresh air reaches his weary lungs, and he takes small, careful breaths. He looks back down at Luc. 

"You're beautiful," Luc says, fingers gracing the sides of his beard. 

He takes in a breath as he revels in the contact- Luc's touch is delicate and soft. Fingers intertwined into his beard, and he allows a blissful sigh. He's so small, so frail— Caustic fears to tighten his grip at all. Luc is like stained glass- beautiful in observation, but easy to break. He feels a flush go across his face at the compliment, and takes in a breath. 

"Thank you," Oh, he's trying. He's trying so hard. "I think you are as well. I have concluded you are… unique, interesting. Serendipitous, in fact." 

Luc smiles, pulling him into a hug. Caustic puffs out his chest, returning the hug. He tilts the other's chin up with his thumb and forefinger. 

"You're silly. You let your brain think for your heart," Luc muses, smiling. 

He rumbles up the courage. "May I kiss you?" Caustic asks, hands traveling down to wrap around Luc's waist and lock together. He's so precious. Alexander wishes he could pluck him up right now, whisk him into bed, and kiss him gently. He's too nervous about this question. He stares into Luc's face, searching for a reaction.

Luc pauses, processing the query. Has Alexander made a mistake? Was he too forward? 

Luc leaps up, wrapping his arms around Caustic's shoulders and surprising him with a kiss. Caustic pulls him in, hearing Luc's joints pop and chuckles. Luc's mustache tickles against his own, and there's a rush to his brain as the embrace tightens. He pulls away, fingers gracing over Luc's face, then kisses him again. For a few moments, they held each other in a delicate embrace. Luc pulls away from him, hand in hand, they disappear from the empty halls of Hydro Dam.  
  


* * *

  
Luc didn't know what to expect the first time he entered Caustic's apartment. It was surprisingly modern. He would go as far as to say it was boring. The living room had wood flooring with a grey carpet and couch to match. Plain blue curtains decorated the window, and Caustic's plants accented the room. He had quite a few—at least one in every room and a closet full of supplies to care for them. When Caustic goes to the bathroom, Luc is left alone on the couch. He inspects the nearby plant. 

It's at least a meter tall, with large, yellow-green elliptic leaves. There is one object of note, though. "Oh, aren't you wonder? I'm surprised you got this far," he mumbles to himself, shifting to inspect it better. It's a cocoon. He's surprised it's there at all- let alone  _ alive  _ in Caustic's home. How did he not notice it? 

When Caustic returns, Luc pipes up to him, "Your plant, it's got a friend," he says, pointing to the cocoon. It's unlike any species he's familiar with, that's for sure. It's small- brown with yellow accents. "I'm glad to see your old plant has a companion," he smiles, "It looked rather lonely." 

He sees Caustic's eyes widen, and he gasps, dashing over to inspect the invader. "It's a  _ pest,"  _ Caustic sneers, reaching over for his glove. He bends down to one knee to be eye-level with the cocoon. 

"Oh,  _ non _ , let it be," Luc says, putting his hand between Caustic's and the cocoon. 

Caustic looks  _ offended  _ as his brow furrows, and he frowns. "It's an imperfection. It should be disposed of." Caustic states, putting on his glove. "It's insignificant- a parasite- it must be snipped away." 

"You should let it grow," Luc argues, "Perhaps it will be something unique." He huffs, "A  _ parasite _ . You're exaggerating." Luc chuckles, giving the cocoon another look. 

"Besides, perhaps it can be useful, no?" He offers, raising an eyebrow.

"Perhaps," Caustic hums, thumbing at a leaf it chewed on in its larvae stage, "It was sturdy enough to tolerate the poison."

"See? It likes your plant. Let it be," he takes Alexander's wrist, pulling him over to the couch. 

Caustic growls as he's pulled on top of Luc, and places the glove aside.

* * *

Each time Luc comes over, he inspects the cocoon. He watches it grow and swell with each visit. It would be just a small check up- an occasional glance at it when Caustic's head was in his lap, or vice versa. 

A few weeks later, when Alexander whisks him to the couch and peppers him in kisses, they fail to notice the butterfly roosting in his houseplant. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that marks my first completed fanfic! Thank you all for sticking with me and for reading this. Leave a comment if you would like, informing me what you did or did not enjoy helps me out immensely. 
> 
> Follow me on Twitter! @OddyNoxious


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